Shadow Weaver Book 2: Song of the Naga

CHAPTER 1

QUICK MESSAGE FROM THE AUTHOR: 

Thanks so much for coming to check this book out. A few of you may have been waiting for this for quite some time and I would just like to say "sorry" for the endless wait and thank you for giving this a chance--I hope it doesn't disappoint. This is the second book in the Ederiss Chronicles and should be read after "Shadow Weaver." New chapters will be posted on Fridays. Hope you enjoy it. xxx Claire

Oh, one last thing. Please don't hesitate to leave comments, corrections or questions if things are confusing. Thanks!! 

CHAPTER ONE

I lie on the forest bed, gnarly tree roots digging into my back, gazing between the trees at the sky. The wind pulls at heart-shaped leaves, tugging like a child who won't give up pestering you to play with them. Through the spindly branches, I watch a flock of birds pass overhead. They fly in unison, arcing into the sky and curving around. I raise my hand to cover my eyes but can't follow their path against the dazzling sun. My eyes burn and water in its brightness.

I close them and breathe in, appreciating the stillness, the quiet. Beneath the rustle of the wind, I hear the gentle whinny of my mare, Dancer, tied up nearby, grazing.

"Mirra!" Kel shouts. I sit up at once, sucking in a breath. Images slice across my inner vision, violent and disturbing. I sniff, wipe my nose on my sleeve and shuffle down from the rock, forcing down the strange medley of memories and recent nightmares so Kel cannot see them. Hearing Kel shout sends a twinge of fear down my spine. He is only six years old, but he has adjusted to our life with my parents in ways I have not.

I slide down the rock, my left leg still weakened from six weeks on crutches. The skin below my shorts glows a healthy tanned color from the summer sun. My foot still aches sometimes, and it will never be pretty to look at, but it has healed.

Kel runs towards me, blonde hair tussling in the breeze. Just the sight of him so healthy and happy makes my heart squeeze. It makes the nightmares that haunt me bearable.

"You've got to come," he says, panting as he reaches me. "Mum wants you. Sara's having the baby."

My insides churn. This has been hanging over us for weeks. Sara's baby. Tug's baby. Ever since Tug stopped here on our way to the northern outlands to find our parents, and we discovered my father was at Sara's, I learned Tug was soon to be a father.

Tug becoming a father seems impossible, yet the last five weeks with Sara and Sara's children tell me otherwise.

I gather my notebook, where I've been practicing the Carucan writing, tuck away my knife, and put my bow over my shoulder.

"Come on!" Kel says. He's already hoping and skipping away, unwilling to keep pace with my slow gait.

Ma is nervous about the delivery. She wants me on hand, though a midwife has been staying in Tug and Sara's overcrowded home for the last week. It's not like I'll have to do anything. But for some reason, my mother is adamant I am present.

I languish, something more than the pain in my foot slowing me down. The baby will change everything. Once it is born, it will be time for Ma, Pa, Kel, and I to move on. Sara and Tug will need their space, according to Pa. A young family starting out is already complicated enough without us adding to the chaos.

Pa suspects I'm not ready to let Tug go. Tug is my link to all that has happened. An anchor, making it real. The only one who truly understands. The only one who knows what I've been through and everything we left behind.